


Second Impressions

by nocowardsoul



Category: Gentleman Bastard Sequence - Scott Lynch
Genre: Gen, Pre-Lies of Locke Lamora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 13:09:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1551605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocowardsoul/pseuds/nocowardsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Bastards are introduced to young Barsavis and Nazca gives her first orders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Impressions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fadeverb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeverb/gifts).



One evening, shortly after Sabetha had pretended to be captured for Locke's test, Father Chains said, "Calo and Galdo are on dishes tonight. I need the two of you to deliver this week's tithe to Capa Barsavi." He handed a purse to Sabetha.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I'm feeling lazy. It's not a test. But don't take any detours. To the Last Mistake and back."

She stood up. "It'll be nothing."

"Uh-huh," said Locke.

It was past Falselight, but Sabetha, as a Windows girl, didn't fear any darkness. A breeze pleasantly cooled the summer air as she led Locke over bridges and across canals until they arrived at the Broken Tower.

She made the hand signals at the guards outside the taverns' entrance. "Gentlemen Bastards. To pay the capa."

"Ah, you're the Eyeless Priest's," said the woman, and they were allowed in.

Sabetha knew where to find Barsavi from her first visit, but she didn't walk far before someone said, "Hey, pezon! Lamora!"

A girl a bit younger than herself stood on a bench. A woman sat across from her, writing slowly. The fingers of her left hand were blotched with ink.

"Mama, it's my pezon," said Nazca Barsavi. Sabetha had never seen her before, but her resemblance to her brother Pachero was so strong that there was no question of her identity.

Madam Barsavi glanced up from her papers. "Well, he looks like a nice boy." She went back to scribbling.

"She's very nice, but she's working on a equation right now," Nazca explained. "Why didn't you come back sooner, boy?"

"Um, I was busy," Locke answered. "Sitting the steps. And having lessons."

"What kind of lessons?"

"Cooking. Reading. Writing. Math."

"Why do you have to learn all that? You're a thief."

They were heading into dangerous waters. Chains stressed the importance of presenting themselves to the Right People as an ordinary second-story gang. "Because we live in Temple of Perelandro, and sometimes traveling priests visit."

"What's your name?"

"Sabetha Belacoros."

"Your hair's curly, isn't it? Is it long when it's down?"

"It's a little past my shoulder." She indicated with her hand.

"I used to have long hair when I was younger, but it got so tangled that I couldn't brush it. Mama cut it all off. She says curls are a pain in the ass."

"I don't brush it," Sabetha said. "You should just go through it with your fingers and braid it at night."

"Okay." Nazca stepped down, her iron heels clacking on the floor. Like the Sanzas, she was taller than Locke but shorter than Sabetha. "Lamora, come meet the boys. They're around her somewhere." She elbowed her way through the adult crowd. A few of the patrons called out, but after they looked down and saw who it was they didn't say anything.

They found Anjais and Pachero sitting atop a square table. Between them lay a broken counting-box. No, not broken - merely taken apart, in order to see if it might be put back together. When they saw her they said in unison, "Hello, Madam Belacoros."

"Hello." She addressed Locke. "That's Pachero." He nodded. "And Anjais." He smiled. "This is Locke Lamora of the Gentlemen Bastards."

"He's my pezon."

"So you weren't lying after all?" said Pachero.

"Of course I wasn't!"

The boys studied Locke. "Well, he's your own size."

"A bit less, in fact," said Anjais, still smiling.

Sabetha asked, "How?"

Locke frowned. "How?"

"I mean, why are you hers?"

All the Barsavis looked at him with as much curiosity as Sabetha felt. "I did it without thinking," Locke said sheepishly. "I was drunk."

The brothers laughed. Sabetha, completely unsurprised at the "without thinking" part, smiled to herself.

"You'd have to be, to do a stupid thing like that."

Nazca crossed her arms. "It wasn't stupid."

"Was so."

"Why, brother?"

"Because you're a little tyrant, sister."

"And how many pezon do _you_ have?"

"When we get some," said Pachero, "they'll be adults. Proper assassins. Not a scrawny teaser barely out of Shades' Hill."

Perhaps she wanted to defend Locke, who was after all part of her gang. Or perhaps the Barsavis annoyed her and she wanted to stick up for the girl, whom she rather liked. Whatever the reason, she heard herself say, "He's the best pickpocket I know."

Locke's mouth dropped open.

"Seriously?" said Anjais.

"I - the Thiefmaker said so."

"Still not an assassin," said Pachero.

"Oh, I've killed people."

" _What_?" Sabetha stared at him.

"You're kidding," said the boys.

Locke lifted the cord he wore around his neck to show them the wolf shark's tooth that hung on it.

Anjais whistled. "A fucking death-mark."

Sabetha's mind reeled. "Is that why you left Shades' Hill?"

"I didn't mean to," hurriedly. "I wanted the Thiefmaker to punish them, so I stole a while iron coin, put it in their chamber, and told him they took it. I didn't know he'd kill them."

"White iron?" Nazca clapped her hands. "You ought to steal something for me. You have to do everything I tell you."

"When I'm capa," said Anjais, "he'll have to follow all my orders before he follows yours, Madam Garrista. And you'll have to do whatever I say too."

"Shan't. You try to boss me around, I'm going to leave for Tal Verrar-"

"-and join the Therin Collegium? Not likely. Even without Father's name, you still have Mother's face."

"Hmmph."

"Speaking of capas," put in Sabetha, "we're here to pay taxes."

"Oh, let's go," said Nazca.

She led Sabetha and Locke to the south alcove, nodded to the guards, and lifted the curtain. She climbed into her father's lap.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Good evening, Gentlemen Bastards."

"Good evening, Your Honor," they replied.

She handed the purse to Barsavi. "The usual consideration." At least, she assumed it was the usual consideration. Given that he and Chains were good friends, she doubted the exact number of coins really mattered.

"And how is Chains?"

"Fine, sir."

"And his initiates?"

"We're all quite well, right, Locke?"

"Yes."

"Father, doesn't Lamora look less like a skeleton?"

"I do believe Chains has been feeding him well."

"I like him now. He's a murderer, and he says he's a good thief. I'm going to have him steal something for me, but I haven't thought of what yet."

"You are absolutely forbidden from having him murder anyone, do you understand?"

"I promise." Nazca kissed the capa's cheek.

"I'm not murdering anyone," said Locke. "Never again." He was truly distressed, Sabetha saw. He didn't like people mentioning it, even if it was with admiration.

"I have an idea." Nazca slid off her father's lap and whispered something to Locke, who looked at her uncertainly. "It'll be fine. Hell, we won't even have to leave this tavern."

"What are you doing?" asked Sabetha. This wasn't the time for a scheme.

"Back to the front." Nazca pushed aside the alcove curtains.

"My dear," Capa Barsavi began to say, but the three children had already left.

Sabetha and Locke followed Nazca through the Last Mistake until they found her brothers with their mother. Locke sidled up to the table. Nazca said, "Is it done, Mama?"

"Almost. Do you want to look at it?"

"Anjais can look first," she answered. "I wouldn't understand it anyway."

He looked at his sister suspiciously, but he picked up the papers. He took his optics from his pocket, put them on, blinked, and took them off. Rubbed them on his shirt, and put them back on.

Nazca began to laugh. Sabetha realized it just before they did and grinned. Locke beamed with pride.

"You're terrible, sister," said Pachero as the boys switched optics.

"Don't call her terrible," said Madam Barsavi. "It was a joke."

"Wasn't funny," said Anjais.

Nazca turned her back on them. "Do you want anything? I can get you drinks."

"We really ought to go home now," said Sabetha.

"You'll come back, right, pezon?"

"If you want me to," Locke said.

"I'm telling you to."

"All right."

As soon as they were outside Locke said, "Did you really mean that?"

"What, the best pickpocket comment?"

"Yeah."

Sabetha tossed her head. "Maybe."

" _Maybe?_ "

"Do you think I give out compliments I don't mean?"

He didn't answer, but she swore his footsteps sounded lighter.


End file.
